Delicious
by Canadino
Summary: Everything is more delicious on an island; the air, the food, the people. Jack/Simon


**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: -

Delicious

One cannot go hunting every single minute of the day, and although the newly awakened instincts prodded him in the direction of the kill, Jack remembered enough from classes back home that such things happened in the world of the adults; you take too much and you end up with nothing later on. Therefore, he reasoned, he had to leave the pigs alone sometimes because he didn't know how long they would be here and if he hunted them all, they would have to become _true_ savages. Which he wouldn't, because he was civilized. The British blood wouldn't make them cannibals.

He had only wanted to escape the bothersome confines of Ralph's stupid little society, away from Piggy's incessant chatter, from the littl'uns irritating presence. He wanted to be left alone in the forest, where he felt so natural, where he could run the trails and let out a growl that seemed to embody the very fibers of his soul. Something about the island made him feel funny; wearing the war paint whisked him to a place where he felt in charge – no adult to tell him what to do, no law to tell him what _not_ to do. He wanted to go for a while without human contact, and by chance, he had stumbled upon Simon, curled up in the middle of a clearing with a half-eaten mango in hand.

At first, he thought it was an animal; but he could never mistake that tiny frame, that approached him after choir because Simon was the only one who would volunteer to spend the extra ten minutes to collect the choir books. He was a good kid, Jack nodded, even if he didn't join the hunting choir. Even if he threw his faints and acted batty. He made to walk around the unconscious boy, but responsibility and curiosity made him pop a squat to make sure the boy was breathing, at least.

If it was a faint, Simon had done it rather spectacularly. Usually, he would be a mess of limbs, but it only seemed as if the boy had just gotten bored of eating and just decided to take a nap. This, Jack concluded, showed more of the boy's oddness. No sensible mind would just kneel over where animals could trample him or (dare he say) the Beast could eat him up. He was so small; even back at home, Jack wondered how Simon escaped being picked on by his size. He was not athletically built, didn't show any abilities of the sort. It had passed Jack's mind that the boy could just disappear with the wind and no one would notice.

Absentmindedly, Jack brushed the bangs out of Simon's sleeping eyes and for the first time, the sharp, sweet scent of mango appealed to him.

There was a sticky residue of mango juice on Simon's lips, and before Jack could think twice, he bent down and licked it from him. _Sweet_. One lick led to another. _So sweet_. It tasted better in Simon's mouth. _Simply delicious_. He was aware something was making his shorts tight, but it was a pleasant realization. The scent and taste of skin was intoxicating.

Simon hummed slightly into his mouth, the younger boy's eyes fluttering as he awoke. Jack leaned back, weaker instinct reining him back against his desires to continue his conquest. "Jack?"

People are weak to things that appeal to them. Jack reasoned this out as he laid a hand on Simon's knee as the latter shifted to face him. The exotic, sugary taste of mango beckoned to him as Simon licked his lips nervously. Jack felt a sound rumble in his throat, a form of a purr, he could recognize. Simon didn't back away, so the advance had been accepted. He would divide and conquer. A needle was pointing him north, toward Simon's mouth, and as any adventurer, he obeyed, seeking out that gold, that delicious taste.

End.

Note: Memorial weekend kept me busy. Or you could say I just wanted to say that I was very surprised to know that a considerable amount of people read the silly things I write. Thank you! Or you could say I'm a slave for attention. Or you could say this is a plea to .destiny to write another Jack/Simon. PLEASE. I thrust this in-universe fic at you. Or you could say I wanted to write about sexually repressed Jack and certain wording that could be suggestive. Either way, this dump happened. I apologize for its lack of quality.


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